


My Fault

by Ricochet713



Series: Tumblr Prompt Ficlets [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Ficlet, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hostage Situations, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Prompt Fic, Reunions, Torture, Tumblr Prompt, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 12:27:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9123541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ricochet713/pseuds/Ricochet713
Summary: When a mission goes wrong, Gabriel is having to pay the price, but Jack will do everything he can to put an end to it.





	

The military van glided across the rocky sands of the desert without a sound. Above it, a small carrier plane hovered, the hatch on its underside open to the elements. If one were to look closely enough, they’d see a small figure crouched there, black hair whipped into a mess by the wind, a rifle pressed to their shoulder. From inside the van, however, Jack couldn’t see any of it – the plane or the desert or the tall rocky outcrop they were heading towards. He couldn’t see the small, ramshackle complex built on the other side of the outcrop, either, but he knew it was there. He knew because of the distress signal they’d received nearly 48 hours ago, and the video that played on his holopad as the van swayed.

A small, dark room was displayed across the holographic screen. A shadowed figure sat at the room’s centre; even concealed by the low-light, Jack could recognise those wide shoulders, strained by the hands tied behind his back. A light flicked on, revealing the man’s scarred face, dotted with fresh bruises and drying blood. He sported a black eye, a cut through his upper lip, his mouth and chin reddened. Jack covered his own mouth with his hand, feeling his heart twist; he’d lost count of how many times he’d watched the video since it had been sent to his private communicator, but each time it never failed to shock and appal him.

“What is your name?”

An accented voice asked from off-screen.

The man in the chair tried to cough. His trademark beanie had been removed, exposing sweat-drenched curls – he’d neglected to get them cut before he left.

“Gabriel… Reyes.”

Jack winced at the sound of Gabriel’s voice: hoarse, broken, weak.

“And where are you?”

“I... don’t know.”

He was struggling to breathe, a soft wheezing just audible through the video; probably had a few cracked ribs.

There was movement to Gabriel’s right side, out of the light. A half-torso appeared, followed by a sharp movement as Gabriel was punched in the chest; he didn’t give them the satisfaction of crying out, but the pain on his face was clear when the man stepped back.

“Where are you?” the man off-screen repeated.

Gabriel spat blood before he continued, sounding even weaker. “I’m… being held captive… by Talon…”

“Tell them why.”

There was a pause before Gabriel answered as he tried to get his breath back. He glanced around the room, eyes resting on three different locations – three men in the room with him – before turning to the camera.

“They want… a ransom… 30 million US dollars… for my release… in 72 hours…”

“Or we kill you. Anything else?”

Gabriel’s eyes never left the camera.

“Fuck these guys… Jack… I’ll see you soon…”

Jack felt a whimper rise in his throat as two of the men advanced on Gabriel, and the video ended with the sounds of grunting and yelling. A shudder passed through him once the screen had turned black.

“Quit worryin’ so much, Commander.”

Across from him, Jesse sat leaning back against the van wall, one hand tipping up the brim of his hat to watch Jack, who frowned, setting his communicator aside.

“It’s hard not to,” he answered glumly. “He looked… awful. God, I hate to think what they’ve done to him. What they’re _doing_ to him… How am I meant to not worry?”

“Cus he’s tough.” Jesse’s grin was meant to be reassuring, but Jack found it anything but. “Trust me, after the few years I’ve worked with ‘im, Reyes is the toughest sonova bitch I’ve ever come across. And besides, we’ll have him outta there soon.”

Jack shook his head. “Whether he’s tough or not, he’s being tortured, Jesse. _Tortured_. And it’s… it’s my fault…” He fell silent, biting his lip, feeling a thick lump rise in his throat. _If Gabriel was Strike Commander instead of me…  it’s my fault…_

Jesse gave a lazy nod. “Well, yeah, it kinda is. But this is the kinda shit Blackwatch deals with – the Boss knows that. It’s all part of the job.”

That didn’t make Jack feel much better. He pulled his receiver out of his pocket and clicked it into place.

“Ana? How are we looking?”

He could hear the wind through the line, and she yelled her answer, making him wince. “All clear! Just took down the last look-out, you’re good to go in. How’re you holding up?”

“Been better,” grunted Jack, ignoring the way Jesse cocked an eyebrow at him. “We’ll comm you once we’ve got Gabriel, make sure we’re clear for a clean extraction.”

“On it.”

The van hummed to a stop. Jack slipped his communicator into his pocket and checked the safety on his pulse rifle. “Alright. Let’s move out.”

 

\-----

 

Gabriel hadn’t slept in two days. Every time he started to drift off, a hand would slap him across the back of the head, startling him awake; it had happened so many times he could feel what felt like a permanent throbbing in the back of his skull. When that didn’t work – or got too boring, Gabriel guessed – they brought out a bucket of cold water and dumped it over him, which was far worse. His clothes were soaked with sweat, water, blood, and Gabriel didn’t want to mention what. He reeked, and felt even worse than he must look.

As he watched his two interrogators, currently holding a whispered discussion at the other end of the tiny room, he ran a quick check-over of his injuries – concussion: definitely; cracked ribs: almost certainly; broken nose: of course; minor stab wound in his lower abdomen: check; grazing gun wound across his left shoulder: also check; fractured knee: probably.

Something salty rolled across his tongue, and he spat out a fresh wad of blood.

“Hey, _pendejos_ ,” he croaked, catching the men’s attention. “You wanna get me some water or something or are you just gonna stand there chatting all day?”

The men exchanged a look, one shrugged while the other nodded, and they approached him together, standing on either side of the chair he was strapped to.

“That eager for another beating, are you?” the one on his left sneered – he had a long scar diagonally across the bridge of his nose, and over the time he’d been held hostage, Gabriel had come to know the man as ‘Ugly’.

The other, who he’d taken to referring to as 'Scrawny', snickered. “Or maybe you’ve decided you’re ready to talk?”

Gabriel grunted. “Kinda hard to talk right now. Get me something to drink and I’ll think about it.”

“Hm.” Ugly turned and motioned to the lackey Gabriel assumed was still behind him – he’d been there for the past few hours, responsible for keeping Gabriel awake. There was a shuffle, the sound of a door opening and closing, and Ugly flicked his attention back to him. “Alright, you talk to us, I’ll give you something to drink. Now tell us: what is Gabriel Reyes, the hero of the Omnic Crisis, retired commander of Overwatch, doing chasing down terrorist cells in the Middle East?”

“Vacation.”

A scowl fell across Ugly’s face; he leaned in closer to Gabriel, so close he could smell the man’s sweat. “Last warning.”

“Ok, you got me. Heard you guys were real friendly so I came to sign up.”

Ugly exchanged a look with Scrawny, sneering. “I know this act, Gabriel. You want us to think you’re not scared of us.”

Gabriel gave a grunt. “Why should I be? You want cash, right? I’m worth a lot more alive than I am dead.”

 “There are plenty of things far worse than death.”

“Yeah, and your face is definitely one of them.”

He couldn’t help but enjoy the way Ugly leaned back a little, the sneer vanishing.

“Joke all you want, it’s not going to help you. We know you have information. About Overwatch, about the UN, and we want it. And if you don’t give it to us, we’ll get it from someone else. Maybe… Jack Morrison?” Gabriel’s expression must have wavered; the sneer returned. “You’re close with him, aren’t you? Or, maybe, you _were_ , until he was made Strike Commander instead of you. How did that feel, huh? Does it cut you up inside, knowing the world picked Jack Morrison instead of you? Knowing he gets all the glory, while the world forgets about you. And now you’re here in a basement getting the shit kicked out of you for him. You think he even cares? I’ll bet he doesn’t even…”

Gabriel spat a thick glob of blood right into Ugly’s face. The man reared back, hands scrabbling at his eyes, shouting and swearing. He continued to yell and rage as he wiped away the blood with his shirt, batting Scrawny away when he tried to help. When he finally turned back to Gabriel, he faltered at the expression of rage on his face, the fury in his eyes.

“You’ll have to kill me before I let you get anywhere near Jack, and let me tell you, _buddy_ , I’m not easy to kill.”

The world flashed colours when Ugly’s fist struck him. Once, twice, three times, and the room spun, but Gabriel just laughed.

“You think that’s gonna kill me?” he slurred. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that!”

The next fist collided with his chest, and if his ribs weren’t cracked before, they were now. He tried to double-over, but the cuffs around his wrists pulled him back. Another punch connected with his chin, and he heard a crack. He blacked-out for a split-second, ears ringing.

“Lemme let you in on a secret…” His words drawled together, blood dripping from his mouth; must have bitten his lip. “I’m a fucking super soldier. Jack is, too. And I don’t give a fuck what you say, he’s coming to get me. And when he gets here, he’s gonna kill you, shoot your fucking brains out.”

A strong grip wrapped around his throat. His eyes focussed enough to make out Ugly’s face, a smear of blood across his scar that made it look fresh. “I will kill you!” he shrieked. “Every man can be killed!”

“But… you won’t… kill _me_ ,” Gabriel smirked, “I’m… too valuable… remember?”

The hand tightened for a moment before letting go and drawing back. Distantly, Gabriel heard a door open and close. Words, distorted, from Ugly and two other men. “Look-outs… down… worried… attack…”

The door shut again. Gabriel blinked, still dazed. Sloppy work, letting the hostage get so fuzzy; no way to get reliable information. He was jolted out his thoughts as Ugly appeared right in front of him, a rag in one hand and a carton of water in the other; he was coherent enough to know exactly what was coming, and recognise the sudden surge of fear.

“You said you were thirsty, didn’t you? Here, drink up, Gabriel.”

_Where are you, Jack?_

 

_\-----_

 

The compound wasn’t as heavily guarded as they’d expected. Once the look-outs were taken care of, their approach was almost too easy, and it wasn’t until they were inside that anyone seemed to know the attack was happening.

Jack and Jesse stuck together, Jack’s pulse rifle whirring to life, cutting through the clusters of armed fighters, while Jesse picked off anyone with enough sense to stay back. The Blackwatch agents accompanying him were ruthless and efficient, and while they set to work clearing out every inch of the compound, Jack headed straight for the source of the distress signal, Jesse close on his heels.

Shouts and gunfire rang through the thin walls as Jack hurtled down a narrow corridor, whipping around the corner and nearly running into a man armed with a knife. The rifle made quick work of him, painting the man’s chest with singed and bloody holes; he leapt over the body and continued on without a second thought. _I have to get to Gabriel. He needs my help._

Another corner, and at the far end of the short corridor Jack spotted a door; the man standing in front of it was tall but skinny, and had a shotgun trained on him.

“Stay back!” Jack snapped to Jesse. He dropped to the ground and rolled as the blast thundered above him, rattling against the walls. A few shards cut his side and shoulder, minor wounds that he easily ignored. Still on the floor, he spun, kicking out his legs to strike the man across the shins, dropping him. With a super soldier’s power, it was frighteningly easy to twist the man’s arm until the shotgun was pointed at his chest and pull the trigger, shattering the narrow frame to gory pieces.

“Shit,” breathed Jesse, catching up to him as he got to his feet. “Reckon this is it?”

Jack pulled out his communicator. “Yeah… just in here. He’ll be guarded…”

“I’ll cover ya.” Jesse sounded grim. “Let’s do this.”

Slipping the communicator back into its pocket, Jack took a short step back and easily busted through the door with a sharp kick. It slammed open, groaning off its hinges, spilling light into a small room that stank of blood, sweat, and death. Immediately, he recognised it, even before his eyes fell on Gabriel, still strapped to the same chair, before he noticed the man behind him, holding Gabriel by the chin with one hand and pressing a knife to Gabriel’s neck with the other.

“Don’t come any closer!” the man yelled, voice jumping with fear. “One step, and I kill him!”

Jack lowered his rifle. There was no way he could make a clean shot with his rifle, and he wasn’t about to risk hitting Gabriel. Then his eyes met Gabriel’s, and the mixture of not only fear but also _relief_ , even happiness, and Jack nearly forgot everything other than the fact that he’d found Gabriel, that Gabriel had known he would come, had been waiting…

“I’ll kill him, I swear it!” The man trembled, glancing around frantically for a way out. “Hand over the money and-!”

A whisper of movement by Jack’s ear. Something silver flashed in his peripherals, the soft sound of a trigger clicking and a cylinder turning. Then, deafening, _bang!_

One single shot from the revolver and the man stiffened, a smoking hole placed right between his eyes. For a moment, as Jack’s ears rang furiously, the man stayed upright, eyes wide in surprise, then he swayed, tipped, and dropped to the ground.

A weak grin spread across Gabriel’s bruised and battered face.

“Atta boy…”

He lolled forward in the chair and Jack rushed to him, cradling him in his arms, fingers tentatively checking over broken and bleeding skin. He could hear Jesse shuffling around the room in a hurry, the jangling of keys, but he was so fixed on Gabriel, on making sure he was ok, that he was barely even aware of him undoing the cuffs around Gabriel’s wrists.

“Gabriel… Gabe… can you hear me? I’ve got you, you’re alright now…”

Gabriel’s words were slurred, barely coherent, and Jack had to concentrate to make them out. “Knew you’d… come get me… Took your… damn time…”

“Oh, Gabe… I tried to… I should have…” He reached out, cupping his hand against Gabriel’s jaw, lifting his head to get a better look at his face. His gut twisted in dismay. “Oh God… Gabe…”

His face was covered in scratches, most of them half-hidden under bruises or large patches of fresh and half-dried blood. There was a cut through his lip, and he had the beginnings of a black eye; there was a chance his nose was broken, too. Jack could still recognise the impossibly handsome man he loved with all his heart, but the sight still made him draw in a sharp breath, made him feel ill. The thought that he had let this happen… Blinking slowly, Gabriel seemed to focus, with some effort, on him, and offered him a lop-sided but warm smile.

 “Now there’s a face I’m glad to see,” he rasped, his voice still rough.

That was all it took. Jack surged forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Gabriel, holding him close. _He was alive, he was safe, he was going to be ok…_ Slowly, he felt Gabriel’s arms, shaky from lack of use, loop around his trembling shoulders, fingers gripping his coat. _Alive, safe, ok…_ Jack could have cried in relief. The shuddering breaths by his ear made him wonder if Gabriel wasn’t close to crying, too. Turning his head, Jack buried his face into the crook of Gabriel’s neck, ignoring the sweat and rivulets of drying blood.

“Gabe… I’m so sorry…”

“It’s ok, Jackie,” Gabriel whispered to him. “I’m ok…”

An awkward cough reminded him that they weren’t the only two in the room.

“Uh, Commander… I’ll go contact Amari, let her know Reyes is safe and to bring the carrier around, while you patch him up a little, yeah?”

Jack pulled back sharply, feeling Gabriel’s fingers tug weakly at his coat in an effort to pull him back.

“Oh! Yes, right, sounds good, agent. I’ll bring Gabriel out once he’s able to get on his feet.”

Jesse tipped his hat by way of a salute and hurried out of the room; before the door had even closed behind him, Jack’s attention was back on Gabriel.

“I’m gonna try and heal some of these wounds up for you, ok?”

As he spoke, he reached into his coat and pulled out a cylinder filled with a golden liquid. He set it firmly on the ground and flicked a small switch at its cap – the liquid turned luminescent, bathing the dank room in a warm light. Gabriel gave a soft grunt.

“Thanks… they beat my pretty face up bad, huh?”

Jack grimaced, shook his head. “No, it’s… nothing we can’t clean up.”

“You can tell me I look like shit, Jack,” Gabriel sighed. “I know I feel like shit.”

At the change in tone, Jack looked up. Gabriel had leant back in the chair, head tilted back, warm light washing over him; thanks to the biotic nanites speeding up his body’s natural healing process, the cuts along his cheek and lips were already beginning to seal. While the sight brought Jack some relief, there was still a deep sense of guilt settled stubbornly in his gut. He crouched in front of Gabriel, head down.

“I’m sorry, Gabriel,” he murmured.

He heard the chair creak as Gabriel shifted. “Why the hell are you sorry?”

“Because it’s my fault. It’s my fault this happened to you. If I had never let them make me Strike Commander, if I had’ve forced them to make you Commander instead… You never would have been put in charge of Blackwatch, you’d never have to go on missions like this, you wouldn’t get hurt like they hurt you, like they tortured you… I wouldn’t have to worry about whether you’d make it home or not… I shouldn’t have… I was a coward, Gabriel… I’m so sorry…”

Now he _was_ crying. Soundless sobs that shook his shoulders and caught in his throat. He kept his head turned down, unable to meet Gabriel’s impassive gaze. Neither of them said anything for a long moment. _He knows I’m right. He knows it’s true… It’s my fault…_

Then he felt a rough hand brush against his cheek. Two hands cupped them, tilted his head up, but he closed his eyes, too ashamed to see the look on Gabriel’s face.

“Jackie…”

A whimper broke past the lump in Jack’s throat.

“Jack, c’mon… Look at me, would you?”

Gabriel’s thumbs rubbed against his cheek bones, encouraging him, and Jack complied; the look on Gabriel’s face wasn’t upset or cold – it was warm, adorned with a gentle smile and soft eyes, loving. Jack’s heart leapt.

“It’s not your fault, Jack.” His voice was soft and soothing, and Jack melted at the sound of it. “Someone had to run Blackwatch, and we both know it couldn’t be you. I accepted the position, remember? Stuff like this… I knew what the job would be like, and I still agreed to it.”

Jack closed his eyes again, shook his head. “I just… I wish we could work alongside each other again, so I’d always have you close by, always keep an eye on you.”

“You mean so _I_ could keep an eye on _you_ , more like.”

He chuckled, and Jack looked up to see the faint smile on his lips; the spark was back in his eyes.  On a whim, spurred by the whirlwind of emotions he’d gone through over the past couple of days, he leaned in, placing his lips over Gabriel’s, tasty salt and chemical but refusing to shy away. Gabriel kissed him back, arms winding around his torso to pull him up onto his lap. Jack hovered lightly on his powerful thighs, hands caressing Gabriel’s neck and shoulders, kissing him gently but desperately, and Gabriel pulled him closer, kissing back firmly until they had to pull apart, Gabriel panting.

They lingered, foreheads pressed together, noses touching, breathing each other in. Then Jack sighed, curling in to rest his head against Gabriel’s shoulder, pressed up against Gabriel’s solid frame.

“I wish we could go back to the way things were, when you led Overwatch. Things just seemed… so much easier then. The U.N wasn’t always sticking their nose in the way, breathing down our necks…”

“Oh, the U.N was still breathing down my neck,” Gabriel rumbled, amused, “but you’re right, it wasn’t as bad. And we were together.”

“Mm,” Jack hummed. “We were fighting all the time, but we were together. I always knew you’d get us home safe. I was never worried, not as long as you were leading us.”

Gabriel was quiet for time. He stroked his fingers against Jack’s hair thoughtfully. “I worried a lot about getting us out safe. I know sometimes it didn’t seem like it, but I did. But you, Jack… I used to feel guilty for how much I wanted to keep you safe. Even when shit got ugly, knowing I had you right at my side…”

He fell silent, and Jack hugged him tightly. “Maybe we can find a way to go back to that… What if we left Overwatch? Went off on our own together? No UN, no paperwork…”

“They’d never let us leave,” grunted Gabriel.

“We could fake our own deaths,” Jack stated, completely serious.

Gabriel laughed, and Jack felt his very core warmed by the melody of it.

“And how long do you think we could keep that act up, huh? Two vigilantes on the run with super-soldier abilities who just _happen_ to look _very_ similar to Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes?”

“See? Completely plausible.”

Another chuckle. “I wish.”

“I really do.”

Jack shut his eyes, settling in against Gabriel, the biotic emitter still buzzing away. He could have remained that way, ignorant to the room around them, but Gabriel groaned and shifted.

“Jackie, nice as this is…”

“Oh!” He sat upright, awkwardly removing himself from Gabriel’s lap. “Right, the extraction, sorry! Here.”

He held out his arms, and Gabriel took hold of them, grimacing when he tried to stand. He got halfway up, cursed, and slumped back down again.

“They’ve busted my knee up,” he grumbled. “Don’t think I can walk yet.”

Jack shot him a grin. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

“Jack? What are you-? _Jack!_ ” Gabriel struggled when Jack lifted him bridal-style off the chair, hoisting him up with a grunt. “Put me down, _idiota!_ ”

Ignoring his protests, Jack gave a chuckle. “Hey, you said you can’t walk, and I’ve got an extraction to finish, so…” He shrugged, then pinched his nose. “You’ve really stacked on a few pounds, haven’t you?”

_“Shut up!”_

By the time they’d found their way out of the compound, Gabriel had his arms slung around Jack’s neck, his face curled in against Jack’s chest. He felt warm and solid in Jack’s arms. _Whole, real, safe…_

_I’ve got you, Gabe. And I promise I’ll never let you go._

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you guys think of this one! I've been really struggling to write lately so this feels kinda sloppy, but usually the works I think are bad turn out to be pretty popular. I'll be getting back into the swing of things from now on!
> 
> This was a tumblr prompt for a lovely Anon that took me wayyy too long to finish. Sorry!!!
> 
> They prompted an angsty reunion with fluff on the side accompanied by a Talon cell hostage situation. Hopefully it hits the spot!


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